So, he walked to his grandmother’s house
with his tail between his legs. Not really,
he rolled his bike with most of his bags on his back
with righteous indignation to her house livid
that I had dared to push my will upon him.

My seventeen year old man child
seems to be cycling bi-polar.
His depression diagnosis was put in place
and he still has some scary moods swings.

There was no input from his “crazy mother,”
no one dealt with his abuse of me
because supposedly “I made it up,”
the police know it happened, the
detention home believes it happened,
the magistrate who officiated over his hearing
and my divorce knows it happened.
The belief in the house was that I did it to him first.
But that is another story for another blog…

When I saw him over the next two days
I let him know that I loved him,
he even let me give him a hug
but I won’t have his tantrums in my house
in front of Girly (funny, I said the same to My Child too.
It has got to be a full moon, every day right?)
I will do what it takes for him to graduate
and get to college, but I have limits.

Insulting me, ordering me, belittling me and
yelling at me are not exactly the best ways to gain my help.
I’m not good with being bullied,
even if we have similar mental issues.
Part of this struggle is learning to know yourself.

He will learn. It will take time and lots of therapy
acceptance and a willingness to find flaws within himself
without the world coming to an end. He has
the ability to seem borderline as well.
I looked it up
but since I have a degree in art, I am
highly unqualified to make any
diagnosis of him. I just have always watched
the behavior of my children with fascination
tinged with a bit of horror.

“Dr. Reverie, what is your diagnosis of patient E.S. Reverie?”

“I believe he has a case of hypoglycemia, senioritis and is
truly acting like an ass today, but would benefit from
a peanut and butter sandwich, a large 40 ounce bowl of beef soup,
a month of yoga classes, group therapy with adults who
will teach him that he is not the center of the universe,
group therapy with teens his own age so he can look
upon his behavior with a sense of outrage
and thirty years of individual psychotherapy
to get some healthy mental functioning going on.

    But

that is just my mothering opinion,
I am neither a doctor nor a professional therapist,
I just visit one twice a week.”

Girly, just barked downstairs in agreement.

I told him that his boxes had arrived
and that he should come over to pick them up.
He bought these things with his money, I would not
keep them from him, but I would ask that he use the
safety equipment I purchased to keep his head from slamming
into pavement, curb, tree or car hood. His new skateboard arrived.
What mom, would not foot the bill for the safety gear?

Really.

He said he would wear it, but “SURVEY SAYS” No! (Forgive me, I grew up on Hogan’s Heroes then the Family Feud.  Sometimes these things just leak out. I used to have a crush on the young Richard Dawson.)

My Eldest is much too vain to wear safety equipment, it covers his glorious, dyed jet black hair.  For a mixed child he looks an awful like Rain, the international musician and actor.

Why does my child look like an asian mega movie star?  I don’t know.  He has been working on the perfect style for a while (almost four years now) and its sorta a slim, tall, dark haired raven look, with the Bruce Lee six pack.  His face and hair are his canvas. Svelt, well dressed but attractive to girls.  He has the build of a male ballet dancer.  I’m sorry that both of his parents are so thin, he is cursed to always want to be more buff.  Genes win.

Tiny little thing

If he calls himself fat again in front of his grandmother, though, he will really get an ear full.  She has been know to call herself a one tenth of a ton big-foot black Watutsi woman.  I know better than to ever make my mom angry.

He can be whoever he wants to be, but his mother still thinks he should wear a helmet, even if it messes up his hair.  I know he carries a brush, comb and straightener in his back pack.  He is prepared for that kind of a fashion emergency.  He can even look cool as he takes off his jet black helmet, that matches his jet black hair… tee-hee-hee!

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3 thoughts on “My Eldest Surly Reverie

  1. You know, reading your blog is an education. I have to say I feel absolutely naive and spoiled. You have made me realize just how blessed our family life has been (even when I’ve bitched and moaned and groaned about it). I stand by you, GF, and send good vibes your way for strength to stand your ground and breathe free.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for your hope and good vibes. I need these things to keep afloat. I know, everybody has the potential to float, its just floating face down that is a slight problem for me. His Surliness announced yesterday that it would be cheaper to live at home or rent an apartment here in this town and drive to school. (Cars, gas and insurance are free?????) He listens to other people, but you know, mom was born yesterday, obviously never went to school or has the ability to budget on a shoestring. Try running a specialty art company and having three kids in daycare, while keeping the lights on in two properties…

      I want him to repeat after me: “Get a job after I graduate, save all the money, find an apartment in an Affordable artsy suburb, buy a monthly bus pass, take my medication every day, remain calm, go to therapy, love myself, go to college.”

      Having a good life is a blessing. That means you have lived well. I would never wish this upon anyone, except my ex, maybe. 😉

      Like

    2. Thank you for your hope and good vibes. I need these things to keep afloat. I know, everybody has the potential to float, its just floating face down that is a slight problem for me. His Surliness announced yesterday that it would be cheaper to live at home or rent an apartment here in this town and drive to school. (Cars, gas and insurance are free?????) He listens to other people, but you know, mom was born yesterday, obviously never went to school or has the ability to budget on a shoestring. Try running a specialty art company and having three kids in daycare, while keeping the lights on in two properties…

      I want him to repeat after me: “Get a job after I graduate, save all the money, find an apartment in an Affordable artsy suburb, buy a monthly bus pass, take my medication every day, remain calm, go to therapy, love myself, go to college.”

      Having a good life is a blessing. That means you have lived well. I would never wish this upon anyone, except my ex, maybe. 😉

      Like

Any thoughts on the above post are appreciated! Otherwise, I think I must be living under a rock.

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